Alchemy Mess
by Nefer-T
Summary: Series of very random FMA drabbles and purely crack ideas pulled together. Chapter Three - Armstrong and a few others enter The MANLIEST MAN OF AMESTRIS contest! Slight yaoi, purely crack, drabble.
1. The Obvious Ending

**Hey everyone *ducks gunshots*. I've been out for a long time, because I've been busy with something really annoying called "personal life". Don't ask why, but it's actually quite time-consuming.**

**So, I found a stupid drabble thing on my computer with some story notes. I decided to post and see what happens :)**

**And of course, ignore the randomness, plotlessness, OOCness, and high-improbability scenarios. For my sake.**

**AND, PLEASE, correct any grammar mistakes I might have. I'm writing most of it here in the site's text editor, so mistakes don't show up highlighted.  
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**Crackfic #1: THE OBVIOUS ENDING**

**Hohopapa decides to help his kids.  
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Hohenheim was hit by a lightning bolt.

Well, no, it wasn't a real lightning bolt because that'd hurt, see, I just decided to start the story in a dramatical way. But it was just my allusion to how suddenly this idea came to his mind. Anyways, he decided he could hep his sons regain their bodies! So he went after them, to tell them the great idea.

_(insert great plot of Hohenheim having hundreds of misadventures to find his sons)_

After they were finally face-to-face, and Ed angsted a bit about how he hated Hohenheim for leaving them and their mother, and Al sobbed on about how much he'd missed him and wanted a real family, Hohenheim finally spoke up his masterplan.

"So, boys. I hear you were trying to get your bodies back?" He asked, matter-of-factly.

Ed made a face and replied, "Of course we do, dumbass. Look at your younger son. He ca't even eat, or sleep. Do you have any idea what he's been thr-"

"Okay, okay Ed, enough angst." The older man waved his large hand and dismissed the metallic alchemist. _(1)_

"I had a great idea to help you get your bodies back." Hohenheim proceeded, a smile flashing across his face. His sons furrowed their eyebrows. _(well, Ed did. Al can't)_

"Did you know I'm actually a big, walking, talking, breeding philosopher's stone?"

Al said, "Whoo! Cool! Really? That's awesome!" He then started to run around happily in a hyper hyperactivity fit - which he couldn't really have because he's an armor, of course. He doesn't have the "happy hormones" gland to send him into hyper fits, but let's just assume he felt stupidly happy and decided to run around in circles for a while, for my sake.

Ed smacked his brother over the head _(actually, somewhere in the back of the armor 'cause Ed can't reach that high)_ until he stopped. Then he turned to his father, "So what? Big deal. You're made of a bunch of living-dead human souls. That's creepy and you're wrong."

"But you boys want your bodies back, don't you?"

"Uh-huh! But I don't think you should bother. You know, we're kids, we need the entertainment." Alphonse said politely.

Edward, however, wasn't as polite: "We don't want to use you in the transmutation, you bastard. That'd be wrong. We have to pay for our own sins and _(insert heroic/noble speech here)_ so, as you see, we can't accept the offer you're about to make!"

Hohenheim knew this would happen, so he came prepared. "I have no idea to which offer you're referring to, Edward." Then he took off his glasses and put on a pair of black glasses. He fumbled inside one of his coat's pockets, looking for something.

"What's up with the cool glasses?" Al asked, intrigued.

"You'll see, son. But you won't remember." Was Hohopapa's intriguing response. He finally found what he was looking for inside his inside pocket (men always look in there last), and pulled a funny-looking pen with a green alien thing on top.

Before Ed could rant about how stupid the man looked with the black glasses on, he pressed the little alien's head and a flashy light burst from the air, suddenly, and erase both boy's memories about how the Philosopher's Stone is made out of living human souls. _(yes, Al's too. Even though he's an armor? Yes! Don't bother me with your 'logic'. It has no place in here.)_

After a few seconds, both boys looked at their father as if they were seeing him for the first time that day. They looked confused. Hohpapa quickly put on his normal glasses again.

"So, boys. I hear you were trying to get your bodies back?" He asked again, as matter-of-factly as he could - again.

Ed made yet another face and replied, once more, "Of course we do, dumbass. Look at your younger son. He ca't even eat, or sleep. Do you have any idea what he's been thr-"

"Okay, okay Ed, enough. This is getting old." He sighed. "I had a great idea to help you get your bodies back. Did you know I'm actually a big, walking, talking, breeding philosopher's stone?"

Al went into shock and Ed shook his head in disbelief. Then Hohenheim said _(insert long conversation here)_ and he finally convinced his sons into using him as the catalyst for the alchemical reaction... - thingy.

"But before we do this," Hohenheim said, "I want to hear your reasons first… Al, you're the one who's most in need. What do you want to do when you get your body back?

"Hm… I want to eat Winry's apple pie, then cuddle a kitty, take a nice long warm bath, and roll up for cooking classes. And I want to fart again. I really miss farting. I don't miss sneezing, though. But I miss peeing as well. And scratching my nose. But, maybe not in that order." He smiled cutely._ (oh wait I forgot he can't smile. Duh.)_

"Okay!" Hohenheim said, and then he thought it'd be good if he said it in japanese, "Yosh! Sounds great! Kawaii! How about you, Ed? What'll you do?"

By then, Edward's uncomfortable-ness with his father had faded and he suddenly developed a pervy mind and became totally OOC'd.

"Umm. I donno. I wanna hug my brother I guess. Uh, no; on second thought, that's kinda gay." (Alphonse felt sad) "Actually, I wanna touch Winry's boobs with BOTH my hands for maximum sensation. And then tattoo my right arm with an image of Mustang, just to piss him off, 'cause I know he'd hate it because it's kinda gay."

Both Hohopapa and Al made a face, but Ed didn't care. He was picturing Winry's beautifully carved boobs and how it'd feel after he'd groped them with both his hands. Then he knew he'd die with a wrench in his skull, so he'd better get that Mustang tatoo first. Hm. Decisions, decisions...

After that awkward moment, Hohenheim ushered his children together.

"Okay boys, fair enough. Now gather 'round ye ole Gate, and let me summon… Um…" He paused, and did the complicated maths to figure out how many soulds he'd be needing for a whole body, an arm and a leg, and plus the body and soul attachment. About 247 souls, give or take a hundred, just to be on the safe side.

"Summon what, father?" Al asked innocently.

"Uh, the Gate, son. And the magic leprechaun with no eyes and one mouth that lives on the other side."

"Ah.", Al said.

"Oh." Ed said, just because he's suddenly an attention whore.

They all gather round in a circle, and dropped on their knees.

"Mega son-transmutation technique: activate!" Hohenheim yelled. Then a blue light, brighter than the sun itself, and magical rays of dark matter _(insert complicated visual effects and BLAHBLAH the Kamikaze Watermelon!)_

He grabbed Al's body from the other side of the Gate and, before anything else, ripped his soul out of the armor and dumped the body and soul, finally re-attached in a romantic-novel-slash-sci-fi-like kinda way, out through the Gate.

Then he kicked Truth's ass, ripped Ed's arm and leg off him, and removed Ed's automail. He re-attached his body members with Rentanjutsu (YOSH!) and they magically grew to the correspondent size of Edward's now more grown up body, and suddenly became very coordinated as if he'd always been exercising those muscles. Before Truth got up again, Hohenheim dropped a number of souls and jumped back through the Gate, holding Ed with him in his arms _(insert clapping here)_.

After it was done, a thick mist surrounded the place. Which, by the way, I have no idea where it was because I developed no background. As I was saying, a thick mist surrounded the place. Hohenheim stood up, looking for his sons. He heard a noise. It was Alphonse.

"Hey, I'm back! Whooooooo! Apple pie, here I come!" He then ran around naked for like three steps and fell on the floor, exhausted and hungry.

Edward stood up and looked at himself (part of his clothes were ripped, of course, but he didn't care). "Hey, I'm back together again! YOSH!" He made a 'V' for victory with his fingers and ran back next to Al, who by then was already passed out with all the hunger and weakness.

"Weak. Pffft. Come on, there's a random carriage passing by. We can get them to take us to the hospital so they can heal you." Yes, that's right. They're in Central, in a busy street. No one noticed of course.

So the, in the end:

Hohenheim got depressed because he forgot his vintage armor in the other side of the Gate.

The tatoo artist didn't let Ed get a tatoo because he needed parental permission, so Ed just drew a doodle with a pen to piss Roy off.

"Piss off.", Roy said, just because he wanted to be in this one-shot. He then threw on a hula skirt and ran away with Black Hayate, breaking Riza's heart. She found comfort in Havoc's arms and Hohenheim decided to bless them both by healing Havoc's spine and making him walk again.

But Hohenheim had to run away because people wanted to praise him and nail him to a wooden cross. _(2)_

Ed finally managed to grope Winry's boobs. She didn't kill him; instead, she fell luxuriously in love with him, but she played dumb. She then hit her head on a wrench three times (by accident) causing her a terrible amnesia. She believed she was a cat for a whole week, and she almost fell in love with Al. But she snapped back to normal, realized her hormones were off the roof and decided to sexually assault Edward - which he did not mind at all.

Meanwhile, Wrath had a heart attack and died, Selim was trapped inside a Pandora's box and thrown inside a vulcano, and The Little Man in The Flask decided to become good and join the circus.

And they all lived happily ever after. The End.

Oh, and I forgot to mention that Ed and Winry got married at the age of 21 and had 5 children.

One of them was black (3). But they didn't care.

And now I need a chocolate. Yum. *dreamy eyes*

The Actual End.

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_(1) __Yes, metallic Alchemist. What, can't I say that? I bet he's a Metallica fan anyways. Hurr._

_(2) I mean no offense here. I was born and raised Christian, though I don't really practice much. It's just that the similaritudes were painfully obvious._

_(3) Again, no offense meant here. I myself have back ascendants, so I'm not racist in any way. I just thought it was pretty random. Meh._

**Well, I guess that's about it for this drabble. It's stupid, but what can I say?**

**Well, tell me what you think. Your opinion matters to me. (Failed attempt to get reviews)**


	2. Shut Up and Eat my Popcorn

**BEWARE OF SPOILERS if you haven't read the lastest manga chapters…**

**I've had this idea for months now. Have you ever wondered what Hohenheim and Homunculus were doing while everyone else was busy fighting off the homunculi and whatnot?**

**Note: I decided I'd sync the aftermath of the combat of those two with the drama scene on ch. 95. Just because I wanted to. Nyeh.  
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**CRACKFIC #2: Eat my Popcorn and Shut Up**

**Who said there were no plasma TVs, or popcorn, or micro-waves in Amestris?... Liar!  
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On the large plasma TV, you could see fluid images and bursts of fire, as if someone was watching some cool action movie with tons of special effects. A man sat on a red couch, eating from a bowl and watching intently.

"It's actually pretty cool in here, mind you."

Hohenheim had his mouth full of popcorn, and his hand shoved deep into the bowl. He swallowed, fished out some more popcorn and crammed them into his mouth.

"Hmmm, thish pofcorn ish great. Where'dya buy itf?"

"I've said it once, I'll say it again. DON'T talk with your mouth full."

A large black shadow sat next to the golden haired man on the large, velvety couch. It reached a hand-shaped blob to grab a couple of white puffs, and the hand suddenly gained a mouth, which swallowed some popcorn.

"And I got it from Wal-Mart, if you really should ask." It chewed.

"It'f guud!" Hohenheim replied, happily chewing on another handful of the sweet. He had ignored the scolding.

"I just think you exaggerated on the sugar, slave boy."

"Hey. Don't call me that anymore. The fangirls will think we're getting all yaoi or something." Hohenheim replied, shifting uncomfortably.

"Huh? Who cares anyways?" Homunculus replied, munching away at a few more puffs. "What about when you call me your "little friend"? Don't you think it sounds awkward?"

Hohenheim stiffened, annoyed. "No, it doesn't, because I say "little friend from the flask", and that doesn't sound awkward at all. "Slave boy", on the other hand, is a **bit** weird. Sounds all kinky and everything."

"I guess you're right…" Homunculus replied, sighing. One of its huge eyes shut lazily, and he scratched his left knee. He felt like picking on his nose like he'd done when he had a body, but he didn't have one. He considered growing a couple, but that would just be kind of gross.

"So what should I call you?" it asked, after a few seconds of silence.

"How about **my** name? The one you gave me?" Hohenheim replied, expressionless. He was trying to watch the TV.

"But I don't remember which one it is."

"Are you kidding me? If you don't remember now, think about it later. Now I'm watching this. I want to pay attention!"

Homunculus thought this would be a nice way to annoy the man.

"I'll take guesses then, if you won't tell me."

"Fine. Be my guest." Hohenheim sighed, and shoved yet another handful of popcorn into his gaping mouth.

"Is it Leo?"

"No."

"Gavriel?"

"Not even close."

"Lysander?"

"… Thankfully, no."

"Jessica?"

"…No comments."

"Theofilatus?" Homunculus ventured.

"Nope. Try again."

"Was it Bombastus?"

"Nnnngh, no." Hohenheim gritted his teeth, annoyed that Homunculus was diminishing his attention span towards the TV.

"Help me out here. My memory isn't what it used to be, you know."

No reply came. Homunculus was rather having fun. He looked at the TV for a few seconds. Hohenheim's son, Edward, was holding tight to Envy with his automail hand, and arguing with Colonel Mustang.

"You know, you should teach you son some manners. He's manhandling mine." Homunculus stated, matter-of-factly.

"Screw you. He's saving him. See? Mustang wants Envy dead. Ed's trying to stop him from murdering that ridiculous thing. If you'd been watching this from the beginning you would know! Now shut up and let me watch this. It's getting really interesting."

Hohenheim chewed on a few more popcorn.

"Shouldn't those two be, like, cousins? The Homunculi do call me "Father", after all, and we're kind of like brothers, right?" Homunculus said, but was ignored by Hohenheim, who spoke not a word. After a moment or two it decided to annoy Hohenheim some more.

"Don't tell me the woman he loves is actually going to shoot him? Don't do that, Lt. Hawkeye!"

"Oh, for Pete's sake, SHUT UP!"

"Oh! Is your name Pete? Because I honestly, totally can't remember."

Hohenheim was really getting pissed off. He didn't want to waste all the popcorn, so instead of throwing the bowl he just threw a handful at Homunculus. Its mouths ate most of the popcorn that hit him, though.

"You're so annoying…" the blond man sighed.

"Hey, wait! I remember your name. Van Hohenheim."

"Hallelujah! Now, will you **finally** shut the hell up? Look, Mustang's apologizing." The man pointed at the TV and looked straight into one of the biggest eyes surrounding Homunculus' body. "Just watch."

After just a couple of seconds, Homunculus asked, "Can I call you Van?"

"I don't know. I'm not used to that. But I guess you can, if it'll make you shut up."

"What about Vanny?" Homunuclus insisted.

"NO!" Hohenheim snapped. "Call me number 23, okay? **That** doesn't leave any room for stupid nicknames."

"Number 23? I don't like that! Who the hell am I, freakin' Dr. House?... Of course, then you'd have to be a sexy female doctor or something. I'd like that."

"I HATE YOU! Shut up, cookie-jar man!"

"Only if you pass me the popcorn bowl… _Hohopapa_."

Hohenheim glanced sideways. _Fine by me_, he thought to himself. He reached his hand into his pants and slowly rubbed his crotch. Then he put his hand into the bowl and stirred, only then grabbing a few more popcorn to eat. Then he pushed the bowl right next to the many-eyed shadow.

"Bon apétit." He said, a grin on his face. He then turned his attention back to the TV. "Oh, look. Envy just killed himself. How ridiculous!"

Homunculus almost felt like sobbing, but he didn't want to look like a weakling. So he took the bowl.

"Ew. There's a hair in here. Er…"

And he went to the bathroom to puke, which made a big mess considering he had like four mouths.

Just a few minutes later Truth went to visit them for a card game and brought Al's body with it, but Hohenheim and Homunculus weren't talking to each other. Due to the awkwardness of the silence, The Truth grabbed the popcorn bowl and ate the whole thing just to pass the time.

Of course, Hohopapa and Cookie-jar man laughed their heads off, and Truth had no clue why. So in the end, everyone played cards and told Chuck Norris jokes while they waited for the human sacrifices to reach the room.

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**Just so you know, Truth lost the game. He's not the best at it.**


	3. The Manly Man Contest

**Armstrong and a few others enter The MANLIEST MAN OF AMESTRIS contest! Slight yaoi, purely crack, drabble.**

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**Crackfic #3: THE MANLIEST MAN OF AMESTRIS CONTEST**

**For anyone who doesn't think Armstrong and Kimblee are teh smexx. 'Cause they are, ya know.**

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Armstrong was minding his own business, which consisted in merely heading to the hairdresser's salon and buying himself some more moustache wax – to keep his moustache soft and shiny.

When he got to the parlor door, he noticed a huge sign. It read, "MANLY CONTEST TOMORROW! COMPARE YOUR MANLY SKILLS AND CHARACTERISTICS: MUSCLES, BODY HAIRS, AND SPECIAL FEATURES SUCH AS PAINTING, CARVING, BOTTOM-SCRATCHING AND GLITTERING! Call 0-900-I-Ma-Man-Ly-Man"

He got all excited. After buying the special moustache wax, he ran back home and called the 0-900-I-Ma-Man-Ly-Man. He registered for the contest, and prepared himself a nice, cozy Jacuzzi bath with lots of pink bubbles to match his pink sparkles.

That's how he trained his sparkles, of course.

After many hours of sparkle-training, he decided to hit the sack.

The next day, Armstrong was so excited he called his military companions so that they could watch. They all skipped duty except for Riza, who was told to watch over the Central Headquarters, because they were on a "secret mission" and needed her to keep the Homunculi under her eye.

Riza, of course, when no-one's watching, goes gun-shopping. So she went.

Anyway, Armstrong was getting so nervous before the contest that he had to rip three sets of shirt plus jacket before he calmed down.

"Well, at least now I've practiced on shirt-ripping." He mumbled apologetically.

"You **do** have an idea how ridiculously expensive those shirts and jackets of yours are, don't you?" Roy Mustang asked, annoyed. He was ignored.

The contest started. It would occur by stages, and those who earned most points would follow to the next challenge. Each challenge had a minimum number of points and whoever dropped under that minimum would be excluded.

He, of course, finished first place in the carving and painting competitions, because, quote, "These are skills passed down the Armstrong family for generations!" Also, his moustache earned him an extra bunch of points.

He beat a couple of cocky bastards who were so full of it they thought they would win the first two challenges. "Sucks being you, doesn't it, Michelangelo? Hey, Leonardo, don't beat yourself down. That lady portrait you painted wasn't half bad, but my pony was way prettier!"

Out of the many competitors of the 'Man-athlon', only himself and seven others remained for the final showdown, the 'muscle and manly hair manly display'.

Garfiel from Rush Valley had his tiny little moustache and beard carefully groomed, and had a nice red lipstick on. He had a sexy _(huh?)_ pair of tight leggings on, Cinderella shoes, and a short flamenco dress, hot-red in color.

Armstrong's heart skipped a beat and a tear actually ran down his cheek, as he admired Garfiel's exposed muscles. Their eyes crossed; and they both blushed, embarrassed, looking down at their own feet, which they had suddenly gained an incredible interest in. Love at first sight?

In the midst of this romance climate, Edward's beautiful golden orbs were mentioned for some random reason, and the fangirls squealed. Winry got pissed off and killed two of them with her wrench.

The other competitor was Hulk. He was… Green. And, um, had decent muscles. And only had a horrible pair of purple shorts that definitively did not match his skin tone. Or shade. Whatever.

There was another contestant: a dazzling young man with lush black hair and glasses. He had a reporter hat and professional-looking camera.

Next, Kimblee. He was wearing his usual white clothes and everything, and he quietly sat in a corner of the competition hall.

Scar was also there, of course. Kimblee and Scar could always be found not too far from each other.

To Armstrong's horror, one of the competitors was… GASP! Edward Cullen! In a horrible reddish velvet robe! Armstrong shifted uncomfortably in his seat, manly sweat pouring down his manly body and soaking up the floor. In a manly fashion, of course.

"What is it, Major?" Roy asked, worried.

"That guy's been picking on our family ever since my grandfather went to the military. But I'll beat him today… No matter what." Armstrong said, balling his fists so strongly that he crushed to death the air that was caught in between them. "I'll do it. I won't run away!"

He stroke an Armstrong-pose, ripped his shirt off with his hands, and sparkled sparkled sparkled. In a manly and victorious way, of course.

The people in the crowd went "Oooh! Aaah!", and applauded. Roy wasn't paying attention, because he had spotted Riza in the crowd and quickly hid behind the hot dog stand.

Garfiel went to tears, Hulk crushed a nearby pillar for no reason, Scar shrugged, Kimblee clapped unenthusiastically (which earned him a glare from Scar), two other contestants I hadn't mentioned because they're not worthy felt depressed, and Edward Cullen just picked his nose and stared at the bogey for a while. Then he hissed.

The jury said: "Well-done! 8,5 points! Who's next?"

Hulk lurched his heavy body up the podium. He began flexing his muscles, and he flexed them so hard and so hard that they were popping all over. All hope to the other contestants seemed lost, when… Suddenly, a random little bird flew its last flight and fell off the sky, in its impressive last dive. Its beak hit The Hulk's back and made a hole in it. It emptied like a balloon and revealed the ridiculous primitive from of Envy on the inside. It screamed.

"Dammit, you stupid bird!" It cursed, trying to crawl its way away from the podium.

Ed ran towards Envy and jumped on it, crushing it with his heavy metal boots in a manly way. "Who's the shrimp now, biotch?" He growled triumphantly.

The fangirls squealed in ecstasy over Ed's awesome, buff manliness. Winry went psycho and killed a few more fangirls with her wrench.

Ed wasn't actually competing, but the judges rated him nonetheless: "Awesome! You get 7,2 out of 10 in manliness and an astounding 12 points out of 10 in sexiness!"

The crowd clapped and cheered. Winry kept an eye out the rest of the Edward Elric Fangirls, ready to strike at the next squeal.

The next two competitors that I had not mentioned before because I felt they were not worth it, decided they would quit because they felt like a couple of girly losers, and they signed a three-year contract with WWE. They now earn money by breaking fake rubber chairs on each other's backs and growling menacingly at the cameras. And wearing ridiculous outfits.

Kimblee stepped up the podium. His dazzling white suit had been a trump and had earned him extra points; just like Scar had earned extra points from his… _manly _scar.

Being the real gentleman he is, Kimblee could not conceive the perspective of ripping his clothes off just like that. So he did it slowly: first, he took off his white gloves. Then, his long white cloak, softly dropping it on the floor. He slowly unbuttoned his jacket, placing it near the cloak. The softness of his movements had both the crowd and the jury in awe. He looked to slick, so velvety, so… As he was removing his shirt, Scar couldn't take it. He jumped from his seat and kissed Kimblee in wild passion, releasing his hair from its tight knot and grabbing his-

"This is the Police! Stop right now! You're both under arrest for being shamelessly in love in front of the public, and for being all yaoi for no reason! Plus, I could see a lemon coming and this fic is only rated T!"

And they were both arrested. And disqualified.

The fangirls had been trying to get Ed to mimic Kimblee by doing a strip show himself, but Winry saw them pulling at his jacket and killed three other fangirls in her rage. She was arrested too, and Ed wound up being harassed by the fangirls.

He didn't really mind.

Roy told the police there was a madwoman in the crowd with a lot of guns, and a fake military uniform – so they arrested Riza too.

The dazzling young man walked up the podium after all the mess was gone. He said, "My name is Clark Kent, the sexy and mysterious news reporter. I will now challenge whom I believe to be my strongest opponent, to arm-wrestle me. What do you say, Major Armstrong?"

Armstrong walked up fearlessly, and accepted the challenge.

"But with one condition. He who loses must wear his underwear outside his clothes. Deal?" (1)

After humiliating Clark Kent (who hid in a phone booth out of frustration and decided he would be fighting crime for the rest of his life), only one more challenge remained: the Cullen.

Everyone waited expectantly… The Cullen threw his hideous robe on the floor and allowed sunlight to hit him, causing his skin to glitter in a beautiful, glittery way. Armstrong's sparkles fought hard, but they were no match for the brilliancy of the Cullen's technique, developed over a hundred years.

Was this the end of Major Armstrong? Would he not be able to beat his most feared enemy?

Suddenly, someone in the crowd said…

"Hey, wait! That guy barely has any muscles!"

Someone else said, "And he looks like he's on drugs or something, look at his face!"

"Isn't he too old to participate in the contest?" another person asked.

Then Garfiel exclaimed, "And what a horrible, old robe he was wearing!" (2)

"Hey! He's a pedophile! I hear he knocked up some teenager who's like 90 years younger than him!" Came yet another angry voice from the crowd.

"Plus, look at those ridiculous chest hairs!"

So the crowd threw garlic and wooden crosses at Edward Cullen until he was so bored he took off, taking his ghastly red velvet robe with him.

Armstrong was considered the winner, and handed over yet another trophy. Garfiel couldn't resist declaring his undying love for him, so they hugged and cried onto each other's shoulders, sobbing all their woes and sorrow off their chests. They had found happiness again.

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A/N: And now I'm sickened both by the Scrimblee and the GarfStrong. Ew.

**(1) I know, couldn't resist this Chuck Norris joke. But we're talking about Armstrong, come on! You *know* who'd win on a one-on-one fight, right?**

**(2) Did you watch the second Twilight movie? Find an online stream and wait for the last part. Robert Pattison looked awful x'D**

HI THERE. I ACCIDENTALLY TRANSMUTED A DOORKNOB ONTO MY FOREHEAD. YAY. I'm the doorknob-achemist slash ed-and-al's-elric-family-everlasting-fangurl and Truth stole my hair! So now I haz a wig.

**(yes people, a random spaz moment. I'm allowed to have it)**


End file.
